[Can’t Opt Out]

“Just kidding,” Emilia cheered, smiling at the man. “Even if you turn me in, I’m not gonna say anything about you. It’s not really any of my business.”

She shrugged, turning away from the man to look around the store. It really was incredibly dusty, looking as though no one actually frequented it. Small fingerprints had been wiped through the dusty shelves, the little girl wandering about no doubt, but aside from a few items, almost nothing looked like it had been touched in ages.

“What kind of store is this?” she asked, glancing back at the man, unsurprised to find him watching her with assessing eyes. “Not the kind most locals frequent, I’m guessing?”

⸂No…⸃ he finally said, blinking those dark eyes at him. He leaned back against the shelves behind the counter, crossing thick arms over his chest, and for just a moment, light caught over his eyes—his deep green eyes. ⸂We have a very… specific clientele.⸃ His lips twitched before magic burst out of him, smashing through the room and locking them inside—or the world out.

“What kind of clientele?” Emilia asked, ignoring the vague threat of separation. She was separated not just from her kinda-sorta new friends but from her whole damn world—from her whole past as well, before all this. A little barrier spell wasn’t enough to do anything other than attract her curiosity.

The man tilted his head, considering her, before telling her they served a less than legal crowd. ⸂Magic is forbidden to most—ah, perhaps the Enclave has already explained that to you?⸃

Emilia shook her head. “Nope,” she popped out, bouncing on her feet like a small child, the sugary dessert starting to run wild through her digital nervous system. She wanted to move, run, fly through the sky and books and talk people’s ears off. Couldn’t. She needed to listen. She’d gotten better than shutting her mouth, even when she didn’t want to, over the years. “My conversations with them have been kinda disjointed? Then the bitchy matriarch arrived, and I got almost nothing of value out of her.”

⸂The Stringer family, then?⸃ he asked, giving her an apologetic look when she nodded. ⸂We are not associated with the Enclave anymore, but my mother was, before she ran away with my father. I heard enough stories from her about the families. The Stringer family… they were once sponsors with a well established record. Many of their Harbingers won Blessings for them—true Blessings, that did good for this world, not the Curses that sometimes occur, not that many people willingly refer to them as such.⸃

“So, what? Something happened to bring down their reputation? Was the one that brought about the blood curse one of theirs?”

The man shook his head. ⸂No, but their Harbinger should have been the one to win the Blessing. Instead, they gave it to another. My mother told me that the repercussions to their family wouldn’t have been as severe if their Harbinger had caused it directly. Giving their right to the Blessing away…⸃

Emilia hummed in understanding. It was like doing horrible on a group project. Leaving all the work to your team and getting a shitty grade was worse than if you’d actually tried and still gotten that shit grade. At least try, if you’re gonna fail. “Why’d they give it up?”

The man’s lips quirked. ⸂Love.⸃

She rolled her eyes, unable to help smiling when a ripple of amusement rolled off the man. “Love, but of course.”

⸂Hey now, don’t knock love. I only exist because my mom was an idiot who fell in love with a visitor.⸃

“Is that not allowed?” she asked, looking over the man. He didn’t exactly look part visitor, aside from the eyes—not that her real body looked much different than the locals in anything other than colouring, either. It wasn’t like he held himself differently, or spoke differently. He just existed, same as anyone else. The only real difference seemed to be that he could hear her.

⸂It isn’t forbidden—at least, it wasn’t when visitors last came. My mother’s circumstances may have changed that.⸃

“I see…” Emilia said, feeling the tension rise in the room. Dropping the subject, then. “So, most people aren’t allowed to use magic? I’d kinda figured, since I haven’t really seen anyone using it in the cities.” Even the elevators, which Emilia figured would run much faster with the use of magic, didn’t seem to utilize any. “You used magic just now, though. Are you allowed?”

⸂Shopkeepers can use magic to protect their stores, if they are able. We are not encouraged to learn, but neither are we denied use of barrier magic if we manage to learn on our own or from another shopkeeper.⸃ The man looked away from her for the first time, off towards the door.

Emilia followed his gaze, watching as a shadow fidgeted in the light slipping under the door. “Should you get that?”

⸂No. They will come back later, if it is important,⸃ the man told her, his tone implying that it probably wasn’t very important, and he would be glad if whoever it was left.

After a moment, the shadow disappeared, whoever had been trying to enter the store slipping away.

⸂Magic is thought to be too dangerous,⸃ he continued, eyes shifting back to her. ⸂Once, before blood became destructive, it was widely used. Now, the Risen Guard and upper class are the only official users.⸃ The man’s nose wrinkled in distaste as he explained you needed training to be allowed to use magic, but that training was only available with money or the approval of the Guard.

⸂People still train in secret,⸃ he added. ⸂The Risen Guard cannot extinguish magic entirely from the poor.⸃

“Especially not when the child of an upper-class lady and a visitor is running the local underground magic school~” Emilia teased, glancing towards the doorway the man had appeared from.

⸂Ah~⸃ the man sighed dramatically. ⸂How did you ever guess my secret?⸃

“I’m very, very smart,” she said sternly, frowning severely at him. “Don’t imagine you’d be willing to teach me a bit of that good ol’magic, eh?”

The lingering humour vanished from the man’s eyes. ⸂It won’t do you any good without access to the system. My mother tried to teach my father, but he could never do anything more than directly affect things with aether and haphazardly use his core energy. Useful in an emergency, she said. Useless in regular life.⸃

“Don’t imagine you know how to access the system?”

⸂Nope. Didn’t the Stringer family tell you the visitors failed last round?⸃

“They did, I was just hoping that woman lied to me—or someone lied to her.” Emilia tapped her fingers across a dusty table as she thought about that possibility. If the Stringers were on bad terms with the rest of the Enclave, they could mean any information she received through them was unreliable—even more unreliable than she’d already thought them.

⸂They did not lie, however…⸃ The man hesitated, looking back towards the doorway for a long moment. ⸂Come with me.⸃

Emilia skipped happily behind him as they exited the main shop, the man leaving the magic he had sealed the shop closed with active. The hallway they entered was just as dark and dreary as the front was, smelling mildly of a musky dampness that made Emilia want to sneeze.

“My name’s Emilia, by the way,” she said. She’d somehow fallen into a bad habit of not giving her name here, probably because her guard hadn’t ever bothered to ask her, only learning it after she told him in an attempt to learn his. He hadn’t told her his name, which was annoying when talking or thinking about him. Well, she supposed it didn't matter much anymore, not when she might very well never see him again.

⸂Zach,⸃ the man told her in return, pushing open a door that led downwards.

“Ooh~ down~” Emilia sighed as they began their descent. “I liked my last time going down, even if I’m so totally done with stairs. Those ones led into a giant cave, though? Under another city?”

⸂There are a few cities like that. My mother told me several contain heartcores.⸃

“What are the heartcores?” she asked, accidentally running into Zach’s back when he stalled on the stairs.

⸂Did the Stringers not tell you?⸃ he asked, turning back towards her. Even in the near black stairwell, this close, Emilia could make out the angry expression pulled over his face.

“No really? They were kinda… hand wavy about it? All ⸂you’ll see eventually?⸃” she said, rubbing her nose. It was running under the trauma of being rammed into the thickset man’s back, but given the lack of aether activity, it didn’t seem to be bleeding.

The man grumbled to himself as he turned, and they began to work their way down the stairs again, something about irresponsible sponsors. Emilia couldn’t really disagree, but she was choosing to believe Key and the others didn’t know much more than they were telling her. Key knew the heartcores were important, yes, but his entire vibe was one of someone pretending they knew more than they did, and that there were reasons as to why he wasn’t telling her much yet, rather than that he just didn’t know. It wasn’t exactly his fault, and having his help was better than not, so she had decided to just go with the flow. They’d all figure things out eventually.

⸂People born within this world have a natural connection to the heartcores. Our magic exists because of them. Each heartcore connects to a different strain of magic, and the closer our birthplace to each heartcore, the more powerful our connection to them. People like to think that women are taken to special locations to give birth because of the blood. In reality, our people have been doing that for generations.⸃

“Yet, magic is largely forbidden now?”

⸂Yes, and the Risen Guard has closed many of the more powerful birthing homes to all but their own families. The upper class retain several private homes, as well.⸃

“Ah~” Emilia said, before tripping when she tried to step down another step, not having realized they had reached a landing.

Zach twisted and grabbed her arm, his movements too fast to have been natural. ⸂Careful,⸃ he said, tone the same as what she imagined he used on his daughter when she tripped.

“Thanks!” she cheered, straightening herself up and shooting him a wide smile he probably couldn’t see in the dark, although, who knew what kind of magic he possessed. “Why are there no lights down here?”

⸂This place is made of material that consumes the light.”

“Like the stuff that’s on the ceilings?”

⸂Yes. It is often mined for such purposes. Countering it is difficult, and expensive. It is also rare, and the Risen Guard and Enclave often hoard what is available,⸃ Zach said, dragging her down the hall because he apparently didn’t trust her not to fall again, which, fair. ⸂We get the counters we can and use it where it is most important.⸃

“Oh…” Emilia breathed out, trying to ignore the vague feeling of guilt at having asked such an inconsiderate question. She already knew the people here were far poorer than the Stringers, and even with his magic, she could tell this man wasn’t well-off. “The heartcores can connect visitors to magic the way it does the locals? But, you said I can’t use magic without access to the system?”

⸂Yes.⸃

“So… visiting the heartcores is somewhat immature?”

⸂Yes.⸃

“Great…”

⸂After visiting one or two more, you will likely acquire the ability to communicate in our language, but it will also attract more attention of the Risen Guard. They watch known heartcore locations diligently, but especially during visitations.⸃

The hallway broke off into three directions, Zach leading them down the right path, which bent and twisted before beginning to decline downwards, the stone beneath their feet slowly growing more uneven as they went.

“They watch them all the time?” Key definitely hadn’t mentioned that. He had only said the Risen Guard likely had magic that monitored the cores.

⸂Yes. It is possible for locals to visit and increase their power—although that is increasingly uncommon—however, this is not well known, and the Enclave guards the entrances to most. Previously, they did not stop anyone capable of seeing through their illusions from entering; however, that has changed in the last few decades.⸃

“Maybe to keep the Risen Guard from getting into them and increasing their power?”

⸂It’s a contributing factor. I believe the Enclave families have become more… intense and dogmatic as the decades have worn on. They complain that the Risen Guard is hoarding power, but if they were allowed to take that power for themselves, the Enclave most certainly would.⸃

“You are way more helpful than the Enclave was,” Emilia mused as they exited the tunnel into a large training room, lit up by the rare, glowing paint, smeared across the walls and ceiling in cartoonish designs. “Why? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for your help, but considering I just fell into your lap…”

The man glanced back at her, green eyes glowing slightly. He wasn’t exactly the most attractive man, which Emilia had already guessed based on what she could see through the dark, and was older than she’d guessed based on his attitude and voice, appearing just slightly younger than the Stringer Matriarch, who was apparently in her early 60s.

“How old are you?” she asked abruptly, quickly clarifying that she was just curious about how long ago the last group of visitors had come. That was another thing the Stringer Matriarch had refused to answer her on, and while her guard had made it sound like it wasn’t that long ago, she had a feeling he wasn’t being upfront with her about the timeline either.

⸂I’m almost eighty,⸃ he said, glancing upwards and adding, ⸂Yes, my daughter is very young, and I have aged well.⸃

Emilia laughed, telling him that in their world, people as old as 375 were known to have children. Not well-thought-out children, but children nonetheless.

⸂That is old…⸃ Zach said, leading her towards another set of doors.

Emilia hadn’t realized how huge and gaping the room was until they actually entered it. The ceilings stretched high above them, marks across the walls reminding her of scars that had marred the walls of their own training rooms, in her world. A dozen training dummies were set into the floor, surrounded by complicated circles of red, which Emilia assumed were magical. They seemed to call in aether in the same way that engravings in their own world did, although these days those engravings were so fine they could barely be seen as more than intricate designs by the naked eye. Sometimes, even the designs were left out, and you couldn’t tell an item was engraved until it was activated.

⸂People here are lucky to make it to my age,⸃ he said darkly, hand hesitating around the doorknob. ⸂I have heard that once you get to my age, diseases become too common. The Risen Guard—⸃

“Takes people away to mercilessly kill them?”

⸂Yes. I am lucky, and am aging slower than most.⸃

“Perhaps because of your father?”

⸂Perhaps. There are very few records of children like me, and what I know comes from my mother’s knowledge, from before she met my father and left her family.⸃

Emilia hummed in awkward understanding. Rumours and broken truths, passed down from mother to son, with no idea how accurate any of it was.

⸂So, are you ready to learn a bit more about magic?⸃ Zach asked, pushing the door open.